Scared
by Helena Lockett
Summary: A bruised and beaten Blaine turns up on Kurt's door step, and Kurt has to take care of his fragile boyfriend. Klaine. Not that heavy, but heavy enough. Abusive themes. Rated T for language and themes. Enjoy!
1. Hurt

**A/N: **Hullo! I had this idea in my mind for a while, and then I finally got to writing it down! It's quite sad, just a warning. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

* * *

><p>"We'll be back in a few hours, alright? Don't do anything stupid."<p>

"I know, Dad," Kurt smiled fondly as his dad patted his shoulder.

Finn, Carole and Burt were going to be gone for most of the night. Finn had already left earlier with Puck for football practice, and Burt and Carole were going to see his game.

"See you, sweety," Carole chirped to Kurt, who gave her a little wave, "don't stay up too late." she added.

"I won't," Kurt replied.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Alright, then," Carole smiled and gave Kurt a kiss on the cheek, before heading out the door.

"See ya later, son," Burt said finally and then shut the door after him.

Kurt turned away from the door with a smile on his face.

The house to himself. That didn't happen too often.

* * *

><p>"I know we're on episode seven, but I haven't really gotten into it yet."<p>

About an hour after his parents had left, Kurt was speaking to Rachel on the phone. He introduced her to Sex and the City and she promised to watch. They watched the episodes together every week. Well, together as in Rachel watched on one end of the phone and Kurt watched on the other.

"You'll grow to love it, trust me," he told Rachel, and he heard a little laugh down the phone.

"I trust you."

He was about to speak again when he heard a knock on the door.

The last thing he needed right now was a distraction.

He sighed heavily, "Hold on, Rachel."

He put his phone down and paused Sex and the City.

As he approached the door, the knock got more frequent and stronger.

Whoever this person was, they sure were rude.

"_Hold on!_" Kurt yelled, and he swung the door open, his expression an angry one.

However, it changed completely when he saw who was before him.

It was Blaine. Blaine was hurt. Blaine was bleeding and bruised and _hurt_. The stormy weather outside had soaked his clothes, hair and body. He was shivering and crying.

"...Blaine," Kurt breathed, "o-oh my god."

"K-Kurt," Blaine choked out, looking up at his boyfriend with an expression of complete helplessness.

"Come in, come on," Kurt told him, and he did as he was told.

"What happened to you, Blaine?" Kurt asked when Blaine was inside.

Blaine tried to get words out, but they sounded more like incoherent noises, and he ended up bursting into tears, loudly sobbing, his hands reaching out to Kurt.

Kurt wrapped his boyfriend in a tight hug, rubbing circles on his back and shushing him.

He let go after a long moment and said,

"Wait here for just a second, okay? I'll be right back."

Blaine nodded slowly and Kurt ran to his living room, where he picked up his phone and said,

"R-Rachel? I have to go."

* * *

><p>After Blaine had calmed down a little, Kurt took him downstairs to his bedroom and sat him down on the sofa.<p>

"Blaine? I know it's gonna be hard, but we have to talk about what happened, okay?" he said quietly, rubbing his boyfriend's shoulder.

"Don't you know what happened?" Blaine burst out suddenly, "don't you know what _always _happens? My dad flipped his shit because he sees everything so fucking black-and-white!" he yelled, his voice wavering and cracking in places.

"Shh, shh, calm down," was all Kurt said in reply.

Blaine had told Kurt about his dad before, how he didn't accept Blaine for who he was, and it wasn't the first time he had heard the term "sees everything so fucking black-and-white" used against Blaine's father.

He told him that his dad hit him, but he had never seen Blaine this brusied , bloody, broken and... vunerable before.

"Didn't I tell you to stand up to him?" Kurt said after a short silence, "the next time he tried to hit you. I told you to stand up to him."  
>Blaine looked over at his boyfriend. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were welling up with tears again.<p>

"I tried, Kurt," he said in what was almost a whisper, "I t-tried, and he just got angrier."

A tear fell down Blaine's cheek, and Kurt wiped it away with his thumb, wrapping his arms around Blaine and hugging him again.

"He doesn't care," Blaine said bitterly, his head on Kurt's shoulder, "he doesn't care about what I think, or who I am. He doesn't care about me. Apparently having an opinion gives him more of a reason to beat me until I can't feel anymore."

Kurt hated hearing Blaine say these things. He wonders what happens to brave, confident, courageous Blaine at times like these. Sometimes he wonders if it was all for show, if Blaine really was as strong-willed and fearless as he made himself out to be. Where did all the courage that he so strongly promoted go?

"I need to see where he hurt you. I need to help you," Kurt let go of Blaine, examining his face. There was already enough damage there. Please say there isn't any more.

"He hurt me all over," Blaine sniffed.

"Then I have to see. Take your clothes off," Kurt instructed, only realising how innappropriate it sounded after he had said it.

Blaine stared at Kurt for a moment before beginning to unbutton his soaking shirt, barely holding back sobs as he uncovered all of the dark blotches and bruises on his torso.

"E-Everything. Show me everything," Kurt's voice was shaking, but he had to be strong. He was here to fix Blaine. To help him.

Blaine undid the button and the zipper on his jeans and pulled them down to his ankles, then kicking them off. He reached down and took off his shoes, wincing - obviously his back hurt.

His legs had fewer bruises, which was good. There were still one or two prominent, black-ish purple bruises on his thighs and shins, but it was a lot better compared to his top half.

"I look so gross," Blaine cried, "I look so fucking ugly."

"You don't," Kurt re-assured him, and he meant it.

"_Yes I do!_" Blaine near-screamed back, "He makes me look like a zombie. He makes me look like a _freak._"

"You're not a freak, Blaine," Kurt replied, and more sternly this time.

"He wants to make me _nothing_! He makes me feel like shit, and he makes me look like shit! He's just hoping that my self-esteem will just wither away! And you know what the worst thing is? _He's doing a pretty fucking good job_," Blaine went on, tears freely flowing down his face.

"Blaine, please don't-"

"He doesn't even _need _any alcohol to throw me around! He doesn't even have the _excuse _of being drunk! He just thinks I'm this big pile of _nothing. _That I'm a fucking _worthless _piece of shit, and he's getting me to think the same about myself. And that isn't fucking right! I can't even stand up to him. I'm too much of a pussy to try and get my dignity back. I try once, he knocks me off my feet. Hurts me even more. I c-can't fight back because he's t-too quick. And I'm too s-scared." Blaine finished finally. By the end his voice was weak and hoarse, like he had a sore throat. It was cracking and shaking, in fact, his whole body was shaking, his face was wet with tears, and his eyes were red.

Kurt just stood and stared at his boyfriend. His beautiful mess of a boyfriend.

"I...I need t-to fix you up," he decided to say, turning to go to the bathroom, swallowing hard and wiping a tear from just under his eye.

* * *

><p>Kurt returned a few minutes later with a box of plasters, disinfectants and many other things.<p>

Blaine was looking better. If he had been crying more, it wasn't that evident, and he had regained a little of the colour in his face.

"I'm gonna do your face first, okay?" Kurt said in the silence, and Blaine nodded.

He first took a wipe from the box and wiped the dried blood from around Blaine's nose until every little bit was gone.

Next, he took disinfectant and poured some onto a cotton pad, starting to wipe at the cuts and grazes on Blaine's face. He could tell the disinfectant stung, as Blaine winced a little. He finished that and then took a pack of plasters from the box.

He took one of appropriate size and covered a cut on Blaine's cheek. It was rather large and quite deep. He wondered how Blaine got it. He decided not to think about it.

He didn't cover any other cuts because they were really too minor and it was unnecessary.

When he hugged Blaine, he noticed sticky blood on the back of his head, so he did his best to clean that up, too.

Blaine had a large-ish bruise on his opposite cheek. It covered more of his face, too, up towards his forehead, and creeping down to his jaw, but Kurt could really just let that heal itself.

"Your face is finished," he announced as he made one last dab of disinfectant at a cut on Blaine's lip.

"Thank you," Blaine mumbled, looking down at the rest of his body, "what're you going to do about all this?" he asked.

"Well," Kurt paused, "there's nothing I really _can _do. Just hope for them to heal quickly, okay?"

"Okay, Doctor Hummel," Blaine replied, a very slight pick-up in his tone. Kurt laughed a little.

"We can take you to a real doctor tomorrow, okay? See if anything's broken," he said simply, "and you need to have a shower, to make sure you and your wounds are all clean."

Blaine frowned, "Not now, though, right?"

Kurt shook his head, "Right now you just need to relax."

* * *

><p>Kurt got Blaine a fresh set of clothes. They were Finn's, and they were a little big on Blaine, but they would do.<p>

He set his boyfriend down on the sofa under a heap of blankets and there were plenty of pillows under his head, too. He had also made Blaine some leek and potato soup.

"Do you like Sex and the City?" Kurt asked him. Blaine nodded under his blankets.

"Perfect, then," he let the DVD play as he punched a number into his phone.

Just before he dialled he clambered over the mountain of blankets and kissed his boyfriend softly on the lips. When he pulled away, he kissed him again, but this time on his nose.

Blaine gave him a little smile, "I love you," he said.

"I love you too," Kurt cooed back, finally dialling the number.

"Hey, Rachel," he chirped after a moment, "You can play it again. And I've got Blaine with me this time."

"Oh, really?" Rachel said happily, "put it on loud speaker," Kurt did so, "Hi Blaine!" Rachel almost yelled into the phone, giggling afterwards.

"Hey Rach," Blaine said with a smile and a short laugh, his voice still weak.

"I'll leave you on loud speaker. Now, where were we?" Kurt set his phone down on the table in front of them, focusing his attention on Sex and the City.

Suddenly, sleepiness hit Blaine. He'd had a long, hard day. It was time to sleep. Time to sleep and forget all the bad things that happened that day. All the screaming, crying and injuries. He would wipe it all from his mind. It would take him a fair amount of time to be one-hundred-percent again, but he was making slow and steady progress. He could worry about all of that another time. Right now, all he wanted to think about was now. Now was perfect.

And just before he drifted off to sleep, for the first time today, Blaine felt happy.


	2. Family

**A/N: Hey! Now, this was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I got some ideas and some people said it would be good as a story, so here you go! Chapter 2! This is focused a lot around the Hudmels and Blaine trying to fit in, really. I hope you enjoy! And thank you for the positive feedback! :)**

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><p>A slam of the front door was heard, and a loud, familiar voice moments after,<p>

"Kurt? We're home!" Burt yelled down the hall.

It had been about four hours since Blaine had fallen asleep, and one hour since Rachel had to stop their Sex and the City marathon to catch the remains of Finn's football game.

Kurt had been cooking for the last 45 minutes, planning a surprise dinner for his family when they came home.

He had just finished the last touches to the table decor, and he smiled when he heard the call of his father,

"I'm in the kitchen, Dad," he called back, leaning against the kitchen counter.

The Hummel-Hudsons entered the kitchen one after the other - Burt first, followed by his wife, and Finn behind Carole, towering over her.

"Kurt, you made food? Awesome, I'm starving!" Finn grinned, strolling up to his step-brother and giving him a strong shoulder grip.

"Finn," Kurt kept his smile but carefully took Finn's hand and lifted it off his shoulder, "I know you're my stepbrother, but _this_ is Prada, and _you _are muddy. Go upstairs and change, I'll keep dinner warm for you."

Finn nodded, an amused smile still on his face, "Right. I'll be down in a minute."

Finn made his way upstairs and Kurt turned to face Carole and Burt,

"Dad, Carole? I've got a... special guest of sorts to dinner tonight," he announced, still smiling.

"Oooh, you make it sound so secretive!" Carole giggled, "Who is it, The President?"

Kurt laughed, "No, but it's someone just as special. I'll go get him. Get started on dinner. Tell Finn he can, too."

Burt raised an eyebrow as his son left the room, turning to get started on dinner after a short moment.

* * *

><p>"Kurt made <em>pudding <em>for dessert and everything, I _love _pudding!" Finn cheered, but he was interrupted by a small gasp and someone sleepily squealing,

"Kurt, you never told me your _family _were here! I've only been awake for barely five minutes and I'm wearing Finn's _clothes _and _look at me_, Kurt!"

"Blaine, calm down, okay?" Kurt told his boyfriend, sighing a little, "they'll understand."

Kurt entered the kitchen, with Blaine lingering nervously a good distance away from him.

"So, Kurt? Who's your special guest, then?" Burt asked his son in an over-dramatic tone, his lips twitching.

Kurt rolled his eyes, and Finn's widened, "There's a special guest? Oh my gosh, who is it? Whoever they are, they sound a lot like Blaine."

Kurt sighed and dragged his boyfriend into the room, "Ta-dah," he mumbled bitterly.

Blaine stood at the head of the table awkwardly, staring and staring for a good long while.

Then, he panicked. "N-no, Kurt, I can't do this, I - I... they can't see me like this, I can't tell them," he was using every little bit of effort to keep his cool, but his speech was quickening, nearly stumbling over some words, "i-it was bad enough that you saw me, they can't -"

"Blaine, they'll understand," Kurt insisted, taking his boyfriend by the arms, but lightly, as not to hurt him.

"I'm not ready for this, t-this... this isn't fair!" Blaine's voice was almost a whisper by the sentence's end, and he buried his face in Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt, what's going on?" Burt asked, his voice stern, eyes fixed on the two boys. Kurt's expression growing more worried, rubbing circles on Blaine's back, shushing him quietly, "just sit down for dinner, it'll be okay." And Blaine, his face hiding in Kurt's shoulder, Finn's jumper slipping off his shoulder revealing an ugly bruise, his breathing becoming faster and faster, a barely audible "I can't, no, no, I can't, I can't, no..." being mumbled shakily into his boyfriend's shoulder.

Burt stood up and walked over to Blaine, gently pulled him out of Kurt's arms and looked him right in the eye.

"Listen to me, Blaine," his voice was strict but a caring tone was still evident, "whatever happened to you, we won't reject you. You don't have to tell us if you don't want to."

Blaine sniffed, his eyes shiny, but a very small smile was creeping onto his face.

"You are always welcome into our home, and we'd love to have you as a guest for dinner, sweetie," Carole added from the table, her expression making it clear that she was concerned.

Finn smiled and gave the simple gesture of pulling out the chair beside him, nodding to it, telling Blaine it was his.

Blaine let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by their kindness. His family would never ever act that way towards him.

"Th-thank you. All of you. Really. Thank you so much," he replied, swallowing and sitting down at the table beside Finn.

Kurt smiled from ear-to-ear before taking the seat on the opposite side of Blaine.

Blaine took in the expressions of the Hummel-Hudsons. Carole - her smile was so welcoming, it filled him up with warmth inside. He could tell by only her smile that she was an outstanding mother. That she cared about every single person in her life so dearly. She would care about him, she would help him when he needed it. He knew she would. Beside Carole was Burt, who had a smile on his face, also, but it wasn't as beaming and cheerful as Carole's. It was a knowing smile. He knew by Burt's expression that he would protect anyone close to him until the end. He would fight for them and look after them. Burt knew something was wrong with Blaine - everyone did, what with all the marks and bruises on his face - but Burt was at another level of understanding.

And he had that understanding because he was a great father. A father who not only knew if his kid was feeling down, but why as well. His eyes fell on Finn next. A grin. A big, goofy grin. Finn would take care of those close to them, and he could make them laugh. He would cheer them up, until they couldn't be any cheerier. Finn hated seeing people upset, he wouldn't stop trying to cheer them up until at least a smile showed.

And Kurt was last. And Kurt looked at him with a look of love. They all looked at him with love, but they were all different kinds. You almost couldn't see past the love in Kurt's eyes. And Blaine liked that. Blaine was perfectly fine with that. He knew what Kurt was like. He knew Kurt would look out for him no matter what.

What Blaine didn't realise was that he was staring at each individual family member with a large smile on his face.

A real smile. It had been a long time since one of those had occured.

* * *

><p>It was now about half an hour since dinner had finished, and the family were sat down to TV in the living room, multi-tasking. Finn was texting, Burt was reading the newspaper, and Carole was painting her nails.<p>

Blaine was sleeping, again. Quietly snoozing the corner of the sofa beside Carole, who every once in a while fluffed up his pillows or tucked in his blankets.

Kurt was in the kitchen once again, but this time cleaning up after dinner. He hummed a tune to himself as he scrubbed dishes at the sink, being careful not to stain his Prada.

"Kurt? I need to talk to you."

Burt had since left the living room and was now standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Kurt spun around from the sink and gave his dad a little smile, "Of course. About what?"

"Blaine," his father replied, and the smile was wiped off of Kurt's face.

"Sit down," Burt added, and Kurt sat down at the kitchen table.

He stayed silent, and Burt asked him, "Do you know what happened to Blaine?"

Kurt nodded slowly, "...Yes."

"Who hurt him, Kurt?"

Kurt hesitated, "You told him he... didn't have to tell if he didn't want to."

"Kurt," Burt sighed, "I know I said that, but I can't just have that kid - your boyfriend - lying there... all beat up and emotional and not know a single thing about it. It's not right. Especially not for a dad like me."

Burt was right. Kurt knew he was. It wouldn't be too bad if Blaine didn't find out he told, would it? And even if he did find out, Burt was going to do nothing but help him. What harm could it do?

"...his dad," Kurt mumbled after a long thought.

Burt paused and then let out a long, heavy sigh, "his dad's doing this to him? Poor kid."  
>Kurt nodded in agreement, "so, um... what now?"<p>

"Well, he's not going back there," Burt said simply, "I can't find a kid in a situation like that and just do nothing, and throw him back in there."

"Where's he going to live, then?"

Burt looked over to his son, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

"...W-with us?" Kurt said after a moment of silence, his eyebrows raised.

"I honestly thought you'd suggest it in a heartbeat," Burt replied with a chuckle, and Kurt laughed a little too.

"I mean, there's a spare room. We could pick up his stuff in the morning. I say why not?" Kurt decided, smiling.

"Right," Burt said with a grin, "now that's the right attitude. How about you go tell your beau, eh, kiddo?"

Kurt nodded and dashed out of the room and into the living room, kneeling down beside Blaine and shaking him lightly.

"Blaine! Blaine, wake up!" he said sweetly.

"Why, what happened? If it's spare pudding, I mean... I know he's your boyfriend, but I'm your _brother_, and..." Finn rambled, and Kurt giggled.

"No, Finn, it's not that," he continued to shake Blaine's shoulder until he heard the intake of a sharp breath and incoherent noises.

"Are you awake?"

"...yeah. Wait, I fell asleep again? Oh man," Blaine sighed, his voice thick with sleep, slumping his head back down onto his pillow.

"Oh, honey, it's fine!" Carole chirped, "Finn falls asleep here all the time, and his big legs take up the whole sofa!" she giggled.

"...Thanks, mom. Really," Finn said sarcastically, blushing and answering another text.

"Come on, Blaine, I've got to tell you something!" Kurt said excitedly, dragging his boyfriend off the sofa, Blaine letting out a small, moany "owwww..."

"...What's this they're not telling us, Mom?" Finn muttered after they left the room, looking from his phone to Carole with a confused expression.

Carole laughed at her son's adorable expression, reaching up to ruffle his hair, "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll find out, honey."

* * *

><p>"Stay with your family?" Blaine was obviously surprised by the offer, but he began to shake his head after a moment, "Kurt, I... I don't think I can do this," he said nervously, running a hand through his hair.<p>

"What?" Kurt gasped, "Blaine, it's perfect! I mean, Dad and Carole love you, Finn loves you, of course I love you. There's a spare room, we'd _love _to have you-"

"Yeah, Kurt, I know, it... it really is almost perfect," Blaine cut in.

"Then why can't you do it?"

"I..." Blaine sighed heavily and mumbled, "...my dad."

"Blaine..." Kurt's expression was a mix of disappointment and pity, and he took both of Blaine's hands in his, "Sweetheart, the whole point of this is getting away from your dad. We can call child services, we can take you to the hospital, _we can take care of you_. You don't deserve what you're going through."

Blaine smiled at how much Kurt cared, "I know that. And, darling, don't you know I appreciate this?" he looked down at the ground, "I just... can't shake the feeling that somehow he'll find me. It's ridiculous, it's stupid, but I can't help it. He's like some silly villian in a comic book."

"Blaine, you're only going to see your father ever again if you want to. It's perfectly understandable that you're scared, but I want to pull you out of this. _We _want to pull you out of this. We'll keep you safe." Kurt explained, his voice firm but caring, "you're making a big deal out of nothing. Whatever happens, we'll sort it out because we're here for you."

Blaine thought, and he thought for a long time. Once he finished thinking, he laughed, and looked up at Kurt.

"...Why can't I say 'no' to you?" he said playfully, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and resting his head on his shoulder.

Kurt smiled and hugged him tight, thrilled that he had accepted the offer.

"I have to be up early tomorrow," he said after a long silence, and Blaine looked up a him, a little disappointed.

"I guess I'll go to the spare room then, yeah?" he asked, but Kurt smirked.

He pulled back the covers on his bed, "There's room in my bed for two," he cooed.

Blaine smirked.


	3. Broken

**A/N: Hey guys, so here's chapter three! This one's a little heavier than the previous chapter, just a warning. Once again, I'd like to thank you all for the positive feedback! I really appreciate it :) Enjoy!**

**(Also I watched 'The First Time' a few hours ago asdfgghjhkkl;)**

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><p>The sunlight that beamed through Kurt's thin curtains is what woke Blaine up. He opened his eyes, blinking his eyelashes a few times, only to find no-one sleeping beside him.<p>

"...Kurt?" he mumbled sleepily, sitting up to look around the room.

And that's when he saw his boyfriend across the room, rummaging through drawers.

"Good morning, Blaine," he greeted sweetly, turning to face him.

Blaine smiled, "Hey."

Kurt got straight to work. "Now, I've decided to go for some of my clothes for today. More fashionable than Finn's, and you deserve that. But, warning: they may be a little big on you. And don't stain them. Or I'm not kissing you for a week."

Blaine rubbed his eyes and nodded, "Right."

"I quite like the outfit I've chosen, actually," Kurt said proudly, laying out the clothes on the bed as he described them.

"First, a white undershirt. Essential," he lay a white vest on the bed, and Blaine stared at it, half-awake.

"Now, I know your style is quite... um, quirky, so I've tried to incorporate that, too. For your top half, I've chosen a simple Bleu De France-and-Bondi blue chequed shirt, teal suspenders, just to stand out a little. And I know you like bowties, so I've picked you a very nice, sort of slate grey bowtie." He lay out all the clothes on the bed.

"...Awesome. Can't I just get a chance to wake up and then put the clothes on?" Blaine yawned, offering Kurt a small smile.

"Blaine, honey, I know you don't like this..." Kurt paused, "but no. Now, your bottom half."

Blaine sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Some lovely Battleship grey skinny jeans, and I've added the feature of a white belt, for a little razzle-dazzle. Socks are optional, because I know how you are. And some simple shiny black, slightly-heeled - because somtimes you need the extra height, sweetie - dress shoes with electric blue laces. So, do you like it?"

Blaine smiled - and it was genuine this time.

"That much effort, just for me?" he gushed, "Oh, Kurt..."

Kurt grinned, "I'm glad you're happy. We'll work on hair once you're dressed, okay? You can do so in the bathroom."

Kurt piled the clothes into a stack and handed them to Blaine, "run along," he added.

"Yes, sir," Blaine joked, sleepily leaving Kurt's bed and heading to the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Blaine straightened his bowtie in the family bathroom mirror, smiling at his reflection.<p>

He rather liked the outfit Kurt had picked for him, and the clothes were a little bit big, as Kurt had said. But really, only a little bit, it hardly made a difference.

The only feature he didn't like - in fact, he hated it - were the marks on his face. The big, ugly bruise on his cheekbone, the scratches on his jawbone and his opposite cheek. the small indentation from his father's wedding ring just above his left eyebrow.

When he smiled, he didn't look handsome. His lip was cut, his eye squinted more than usual, he had marks and blemishes. _He wasn't handsome._

He stared at his reflection for an awfully long time before shaking his head and looking around the bathroom. He found a small, flowery bag. It looked like a make-up purse. He undid the zip to reveal all kinds of make-up. It must have been Carole's. It looked old, most of it was nearly used up.

He dug around until he found what he was looking for. He took the concealer and tested it on his hand. It wasn't his skin colour exactly, but it didn't look strangely unlike it.

It was probably old make-up, and Carole was so sweet. She wouldn't mind, would she?

Blaine poured some of the liquid onto his fingers and began to spread it on his face, taking care of the bruise first.

* * *

><p>Blaine and Kurt finally arrived downstairs in the kitchen about twenty minutes since Blaine had left the bathroom. They were greeted warmly by Burt, Carole and Finn. Carole was making breakfast as she usually did.<p>

"Oh, good morning, boys!" Carole chirped, giving both boys a kiss on the cheek as she passed them.

"Mornin', bro. Hey, Blaine," Finn managed to get out, his mouth stuffed with waffles, and he gave them a small wave.

"Good morning, kids. How are we? And Finn, swallow your food," Burt greeted as he read the newspaper.

"I'm fine, Dad," Kurt smiled and led Blaine to the table, seating him between himself and where Carole would sit once she finished breakfast.

"Good, Mr. Hummel, thank you," Blaine gave Burt a confident smile and a small nod, and Burt chuckled slightly.

"Call me Burt."

"R-Right, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"Blaine, sweetheart?" Carole asked him as she handed Kurt a plate of toast, "what would you like for breakfast? And don't be nice, tell me what you _really _want, okay?" she laughed.

Blaine laughed, too, "Um, do you have Poptarts?" he asked quietly.

"Unhealthy," Kurt mumbled as he read a fashion magazine, a smug smile on his face.

Blaine just laughed and gave him a playful shove.

"Dude, Poptarts are like, my favourite!" Finn said with a fist pump, and Blaine grinned.

"Mom, mom! He can have the Rainbow Cookie Sandwich flavour! I give him permission!" Finn declared, and the whole table laughed a little.

"Alright, honey," Carole answered with a grin, taking a pack from the box of Poptarts and putting them in the toaster.

"So, Blaine," Burt looked at his son's boyfriend, who was holding Kurt's hand under the table, "we have to go pick up all your stuff today, okay?"

Blaine swallowed and didn't respond for a moment, but then nodded, "Yeah, of course."

"I know you might be scared, but Kurt and I will be with you, so you'll be fine," Burt said re-assuringly, and Blaine smiled.

"I... I have a key to my house in my shirt pocket. The clothes Kurt took off me. My dad... doesn't even have to answer the door," Blaine said with a great amount of relief, his smile growing.

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand, "We could go after breakfast, if that's okay with you, Dad," and Burt nodded.

"That's fine."

Carole then placed a plate of Poptarts in front of Blaine, "Enjoy, Blaine!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Hu- um, Carole," Blaine replied with a charming smile.

"Dude... psst, Blaine!" Finn said "quietly" across the table.

"Yes, Finn?" Blaine kept his voice low, playing along.

"Can I have one?"

Blaine stared down at his plate and then to Finn's, which had waffles on it.

"...Waffle for Poptart?" he offered, a sly smile on his face.

Finn grinned, "Deal."

* * *

><p>Breakfast finished and everyone started to leave to begin the day - Kurt, Blaine and Burt were going to Blaine's house, Finn was planning a day of video games and "oh yeah, girl stuff too" with Rachel and Puck, who were due to arrive any moment, and Carole was getting the daily cleaning done.<p>

Kurt and Burt had left the kitchen and headed for the car, and Blaine was to folllow after he got the house key from his shirt.

He found the key and spotted Carole washing dishes as he was about to leave,

"Um, I'll see you later, M- Carole. Breakfast was lovely, thank you."

Carole grinned, "Aw, thank you, sweetie! It's no problem, really."

Blaine gave her a nod and was just at the kitchen doorway when Carole called him back,

"Blaine?" she called.

He spun around with a smile, "Yes?"

"...Your bruises. They're healing very well. Very quickly," her voice sounded concerned, but firm at the same time.

Blaine paused. He licked his lips.

"Thank you. I- I'll see you later."

He turned on his heel and finally left.

She knew about the concealer. He knew she did.

* * *

><p>The drive to Blaine's house was long, just over two hours. Blaine offered to drive there - "I know the directions better and everything" - but Burt refused.<p>

They had just pulled up in Blaine's driveway and were making their way out of the car.

"Wow. Your house is huge," Kurt commented, and Blaine nodded.

"And only two people live in it. It's sort of lonely, really."

Kurt offered his hand and Blaine took it, and the two boys plus Burt arrived at the front door.

Blaine fumbled in his - well, Kurt's - jeans pocket and found the key. He fit it in the keyhole and unlocked the door and opened it very slowly and quietly.

He crept in the door into the main hallway.

"Is your dad not at work?" Kurt asked.

"Be quiet!" Blaine whisper-snapped.

"Hey!" Burt whispered sternly.

"...I'm sorry. And no, it's his day off. Typical, I know." Blaine mumbled, blushing.

Blaine walked up to the long staircase, "Um, my room's upstairs. I'll be as quick as I can, okay?"

"Are you sure you don't want one of us with you?" Burt asked, but Blaine instantly shook his head.

"I'm being brave for a change. I'll be fine."

He gave Kurt's hand one last squeeze before letting it go, and gave Burt a nod.

"Be careful!" Kurt whispered.

"Don't worry," Blaine winked, "I'll be okay."

And with that, he disappeared up the stairs and into his room.

* * *

><p>Blaine had grabbed a few different suitcases and bags and was beginning to pack his stuff. He didn't need it <em>all <em>now, but he needed enough. He was sure he could collect the rest somehow.

He was clearing out his chest of drawers, bending down to reach the bottom drawer.

And then it happened. He was pushed down. He didn't fall himself. Someone forced him down.

"Where were you?"

Blaine looked up at his father, petrified, "Dad, I was ju-"

"What are you packing all this stuff away for?" Mr. Anderson yelled, kicking at his son's legs, but only once.

"Dad, just listen to me, please?" Blaine begged, and tears pricked at his eyes.

"Well, go on then. Tell me," Mr. Anderson spat.

"I... this isn't right, Dad. What you're doing to me. I - I ran. When I woke up," Blaine swallowed hard, "after y-you knocked me out."

"Sob stories aren't going to get you anywhere, Blaine," his father growled, taking Blaine by the wrist. Grasping it too tight. "Talk."

"I - I ran. I told you," Blaine let the tears fall from his eyes.

Mr. Anderson punched him. Hard.

"Don't cry. I didn't raise my son to be a _pussy._"

"_You didn't raise me at all!_" Blaine screamed back, and his father punched him again.

"Don't talk back to me, do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir." Blaine whimpered pathetically, spitting blood from his mouth.

"Tell me where you went."

"Dad, please, I do-"

Another punch.

"_Tell me_."

Blaine held back a sob and choked out, "T-to... K-Kurt's house."

"_Kurt? Your faggot boyfriend?_" Mr. Anderson bellowed, and Blaine began crying loudly.

"We're in love, Dad! _We're in love and you can't do anything about it!_" he wailed, and that's when Mr. Anderson took him by the arms. He lifted him by his arms only, raised his knee and hit his son in the crotch. He threw him against the chest of drawers and started kicking his body. Any part of his body. Anywhere he could reach. His head. His arms. His stomach. His face. His back. His torso. Anywhere.

Blaine started screaming. He started screaming loud. "_Kurt! Kurt, help me, please!_"

Another kick. His ribs.

"_Help me! Someone h-help me, p-please!_"

"Shut up!" Another kick. His hip.

"_Kurt! Burt! H-Help! Help me! Help me! Help me!_" It was becoming like a chant for Blaine.

"_Shut your fucking mouth, Blaine!_" Another kick. His stomach.

"Blaine!"

Kurt and Burt stood at the doorway, "Get off of him!" Kurt yelled to Mr. Anderson.

"Kurt, watch yourself!" Burt warned him, taking his son by the arm.

Mr. Anderson turned to them and strolled over.

"Kurt, it's so nice to meet you," he said in a sickeningly sweet tone, "I've heard so much about you."

He didn't hesistate. He punched Kurt right in the face.

"Hey! You don't hit my son and get away with it!" Burt yelled, boiling over with anger, "Kurt! If you can, get Blaine, take him to the car. I'll deal with this son-of-a-bitch."

Kurt was still in shock, yet he protested, "Dad, I don't want you to get hurt-"

_"Kurt, just do it!_"

Kurt nodded quickly and ran past the two fathers to his boyfriend, who was panting heavily and bleeding against his chest of drawers. There were tears streaming down his face, and he had a nosebleed.

"Blaine... oh my god..." Kurt's voice was a whisper.

"I-I was wrong, Kurt..." Blaine panted, his voice weak from screaming for help and in pain, "n-never leave me alone a-again."

He passed out.

* * *

><p>When Blaine next woke up, it was to very bright lights. There was a whole lot of rustle and bustle going on around him, he could hear a lot of talking. His head was pounding. His muscles ached.<p>

He didn't know what to do. He opened his eyes to more lights, shining directly down on him. He was lying on his back.

"...h-hello?" he called out. Wow, his voice sounded terrible. It sounded hoarse and weak, his mouth was dry, his throat hurt.

"Blaine?" a voice answered back, "Blaine, you're awake!"

Then something else popped into his line of vision. It was Kurt, which is what he thought. He looked tired, worried. He looked scared. But he looked happy. He was smiling.

"Kurt..." Blaine smiled back, "where am I?"

"In hospital, honey. I thought that was pretty obvious."

"I'm awake two minutes and already you're sassy."

Kurt laughed,"I'm sorry. I'm just glad you're okay," his voice was wobbly.

"Hey, don't cry," Blaine felt for Kurt's hand and took it when he found it, "I'm okay. You knew I was going to be okay. I'm always going to be okay."

Kurt nodded and sat back down in the chair next to Blaine's bed, wiping a tear from his cheek.

He took a plastic cup from the bedside table and handed it to Blaine, "Water. Drink it. I can tell you need it."

Blaine nodded and took the water, gulping it down very fast.

"Dad and Carole went to the cafe. Finn, Puck and Rachel are just looking around, I think," Kurt told him as he drank the water.

"Why are they all here? Didn't they have plans?"

"Blaine, they can't be told you're in the hospital and just ignore it."

Blaine raised his eyebrows, "I guess."

Kurt looked his boyfriend up and down, frowning.

"Do you... hurt?" he asked, his tone dropping.

Blaine nodded, sitting up a little, "Well, of course I do. I mean... he hurt me. Quite a bit."

"The doctor says you've got a fractured rib. He said all you have to do is-"

"Take medication and look after my lungs. I - I know, it's not the first time," Blaine cut in, looking down at the bedsheets afterwards.

"Oh, Blaine..." Kurt mumbled sadly, planting a kiss on Blaine's cheek.

"It's fine. I mean, it hurts, but it's fine."

Just then, a doctor came into the room with a smile.

"Hello, Kurt," he gave Kurt a nod, "And Blaine, this is my first time meeting you. Hello, I'm Dr. Holden. I'm your doctor."

"I figured. Hi, it's nice to meet you. And thank you," Blaine gave him a little smile, offering his hand to shake.

Dr. Holden shook his hand and then flipped through his medical chart,

"Blaine, I'm here just to tell you of your injuries and what to do with them. Which doesn't sound very cheerful, but it has to get done," the doctor chuckled while reading the chart.

"How bad is it?" Blaine asked.

"Oh, it could be a lot worse, believe me. Basically, Blaine, you've got a fractured rib, extensive bruising on your torso, a few scratches here and there, bruising on your legs and your previous injuries."

"Thank you, doctor," Blaine replied, not looking up from his bedsheets.

"You'll have a lot of muscle pain to deal with. You'll ache for some time," the doctor added.

Blaine nodded, "Okay."

"...Alright, I think we're finished here. Anything else?"

"Doc? Could I have... pain medication?" Blaine asked, his voice shaky, and Dr. Holden nodded.

"I'll have a nurse send you a small dose."

"Thank you."

Dr. Holden gave the two boys a small nod again, before leaving the room.

Kurt gave Blaine a concerned look, "Are you okay?"

"It hurts. I hurt," Blaine mumbled back, his tone nothing short of miserable.

Kurt grew more and more concerned, "...Blaine, what's wrong? Honey, talk to me."

Blaine finally looked up, his face a distraught, crumpled mess.

"It hurts, Kurt," he choked out, closing his eyes for a moment, tears spilling over, "I just want it to end."

He paused and tried to collect himself, wiping the tears from his cheeks, sniffing. His voice was thick and shaky,

"I'm hurting. I'm really, really hurting."

And Kurt knew he meant more than the cuts and bruises.


	4. Sorry

**A/N: Hey everyone! So, here's chapter four! Sorry if there was a little delay! I hope you enjoy and reviews are appreciated!**

* * *

><p>"It's easier seeing you beaten up than seeing you like this,"<p>

Kurt was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, a look of concern and worry on his face.

"Seeing me like what, Kurt?" Blaine, who was sitting on Kurt's bed, replied with an irritated sigh.

"The way you are. I know there's something wrong. _You _know there's something wrong," Kurt sat down on the bed beside him.

"There's nothing wrong with me," Blaine dismissed, "you're over-reacting."

"Blaine, I'm not over-reacting," Kurt's voice was suddenly very strict, "How am I over-reacting when I wake up in the morning and find out you haven't slept at all? How am I over-reacting when even _your own _clothes are starting to get too big for you? How am I over-reacting when you act like _this?_"

Blaine sighed again, "What are you talking about?"

"_You know very well what I'm talking about!_ For three weeks, you've just sat around with _nothing_! No sleep, no food, no _energy_! You constantly complain about how much you hate yourself and how you want your life to end and you expect me _not_ to freak out? It's _ridiculous_, Blaine! You don't care about yourself, you don't care about _me_, I just want to help you-"

"_Stop acting like you know me_!" Blaine yelled back, "you don't know a damn thing that's going on in my mind, you don't know how I feel! You act like you're Mr. Know-It-All, like you can help, but you can't, because you don't understand!"

"I - I may not understand completely, but I know there's something wrong, and you know it, too, you're just in denial! You can't argue with me when I'm _trying to help you_!"

"What did I just tell you? You can't help me, the only person that can help me is _myself_!"

"What, help yourself by not eating or not sleeping? Help yourself by basically _ignoring_ everything going on around you? Blaine, shutting off your feelings isn't helping yourself, it's just making it _worse_!"

"It's making nothing worse, because nothing's wrong with me! And I'm not shutting off my damn feelings because I'm feeling _pretty fucking pissed off_ at you right now!"

Kurt gasped. Blaine had never said anything like this about him before. Blaine considered everyone's feelings. Blaine understood if you were acting out in some way.

"I - I can't believe you just said that," his voice shook and his eyes were hot with tears.

"Oh, really?" Blaine laughed bitterly, "You want me to say it again? You're pissing me off, Kurt. Sometimes I wish you would just _shut your fucking mouth_."

Kurt stared at Blaine. And he stared and stared. "I can't believe you," he said coldly, trying and failing to stop his voice shaking, "I just can't believe you."

Blaine looked hurt, but he maintained his standoffish attitude.

"Just leave me alone, Kurt."

He turned his back and heard soft whimpering behind him. Oh god. Kurt was crying.

"Now I k-know there's something wrong with you," Kurt sobbed, "because y-you're not the boy I f-fell in love with."

He left, and Blaine could still hear his sobs as he ran down the hallway.

* * *

><p>Kurt ran down the hallway of his home, wiping the tears from down his face. He needed comfort. He needed someone who would make him laugh.<p>

He arrived at Finn's door and opened it slowly, peeking his head in the door.

"Oh, hey Kurt," Finn noticed his step-brother at the door, "um, would you mind knocking next time?"

"Am I interrupting something?"

Finn looked around awkwardly, "Well, me and Puck were just jerking each-"

"Jerking around on video games," Puck cut in, "you interrupted nothing, princess, come on in," he added, giving Finn a smirk.

Kurt looked suspiciously at the two for a moment, but walked in and slumped down on the sofa beside Finn.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Puck asked, concerned," you look like you've been crying."

Kurt didn't answer for a moment, he felt like he was going to break down again, "Boyfriend trouble." His voice came out wobbly, and Finn knew he was about to cry, so he scooped him into a hug.

"No no no no, you're not allowed to cry. That makes me feel like a crappy brother," Finn joked, and Kurt laughed a watery laugh into his chest.

"You're not," he insisted, and he felt Puck's hand on his shoulder, comforting him.

"I shouldn't be crying, it's stupid," Kurt mumbled after a moment of silence, sniffling.

"Well... sometimes you've gotta let your emotions out, right?" Puck shrugged.

Kurt nodded and wiped his eyes, "But that's enough for now. Finn's shirt is all damp."

"It's fine," Finn said, "so, um, we're playing video games. I... Rachel left over her coat if you want to... review it or something. I know video games aren't your thing."

Kurt laughed, "No, no, I'm okay. I'll just sit and watch."

"Are you sure?" Puck asked, "I mean, Halo's pretty kick-ass."

Kurt shook his head, "I just need to calm down."

"Alright. Well, you calm down while we do the complete opposite and blow stuff up," Puck replied, laughing.

Kurt smiled, and when he looked down he saw that Finn had put a blanket on his lap.

"Keep cosy. Keep calm," Finn told him.

"And don't forget to be awesome," Puck chimed in.

Kurt laughed again, "You guys are the best."

"Aw, shucks," Finn blushed, "you're the best, too, bro. You're so cool I even picked the blanket with no spilled milk on it for you."

Kurt smiled, touched by Finn's efforts, "Thank you."

* * *

><p>School was hard. It was particularily hard when Blaine and Kurt were in a fight. When Blaine came back to school after this hospital incident, the day was terrible. He looked so bad that people he didn't even know were coming up to him and asking questions. Not even the foundation he had used every morning could cover everything well enough. He always lied and said he fell off a high wall or a tree or something.<p>

"Blaine, are you okay?" Santana asked him on Monday, "I feel like if you got any skinnier we could use you as a javelin in gym class."

"You want some of my Alphabets?" Brittany offered on Tuesday, "you have no lunch, and I feel really bad about killing all the letters, but they taste good."

"Are you alright? You look ill," Rory said on Wednesday as he passed by, "I could take you to the nurse if you like."

"How are you coping?" Rachel inquired on Thursday, "did you get the Celine Dion CD I sent you? It really helps me get my emotions out."

"Dude, I'm calling Burt and you can go home early," Finn insisted on Friday, "you look like death."

More and more he was getting sent home early from school, until he was only going in two days a week at the most.

"We miss you in glee club, you know," Brittany told him over the phone on a Saturday evening, "get well soon, okay? I got Lord Tubbington a suit and... I mean, I could send you a photo, but it looks better in person."

"Okay," Blaine replied, "and don't tell me 'get well soon', nothing's wrong."

"Kurt told me you were being silly and you were in Denmark or something."

Blaine sighed, "Denial. And don't listen to Kurt."

"We're going to to send you a card," he heard Rory raise his voice in the background, "Brittany and I are getting all of New Directions to sign. That's how much we miss you."

"Stop making such a big deal, you don't have to send a card," Blaine said sternly, "in fact, don't."

And he hung up the phone.

* * *

><p>He spent another Tuesday at home, with everyone but Carole out of the house. Finn and Kurt were at school, and Burt was working in the garage.<p>

He was in the spare room, lying in bed, not feeling like doing anything.

Then he heard a knock on the door, "Blaine?" Carole's voice followed the knock, "can I come in?"

Blaine sat up in his bed and replied, "Sure."

Carole entered the room with her always present sweet, motherly smile, holding an envelope.

"It's from your glee club friends," she said, "I thought you might want to see it."

Blaine nodded slowly and Carole handed him the envelope and left the tore it open, reaching inside and finding a large card with a custom-made front. He could tell those were Brittany's crayon scribbles of a picture of him, and it was actually a pretty nice picture.

The front also read, "We Miss You, Blaine" in big, pink letters.

He opened it.

The card was laden with messages from New Directions.

He began to read.

_**'With you gone, Finn's starting to look like a good dancer. :P**_

_**I miss you. We all do.**_

_**- Mike xxx'**_

_**'The bright and burning talent in the corner of the choir room is missing.**_

_**The room is dark without you.**_

_**I can't be Maria without my Tony. :)**_

_**- Rachel 3 xx'**_

_**'You told me I looked beautiful everyday. I miss it.**_

_**- Quinn xo'**_

_**'I miss you. Mostly because I need someone to make hobbit jokes towards. :)**_

_**- Santana x'**_

_**'I tried to get Lord Tubbington on nicotine patches and now he won't talk to me. He usually listens to you.**_

_**- Britt :D xxxxoooo'**_

_**'I miss you. **_

_**- Kurt xxxxxxxxxxxxxx'**_

_**'You told me not to, but this will help. I can feel you smiling. You're welcome. ;)**_

_**- Rory xxx'**_

As much as he hated to admit it, Rory was right. He was smiling. It helped him realise something really was wrong with him. And there were more comments. Every single member had left one. He felt a tear fall down his cheek and it hit the page, blotching some of the comments written in pen.

Then, all the guilt washed over him. His friends had tried to help him in school, they tried to talk to him, make him laugh, they offered him food, they helped out in class, everything. And he just rejected them or gave them rude, snappy answers.

He decided he needed to redeem himself. He wanted to give each of them a personal message. Just like they had done for him.

He took his phone from the side table and began, starting with Quinn,

'_You look beautiful today,' _he wrote.

He hit the Send button.

* * *

><p>Kurt had said good night to his family and headed to bed, opening his room door.<p>

He was surprised to find all the lights were turned off, all but one shining blue light on his dressing table.

He looked around the room as best he could for a moment, before deciding to follow the blue light to his dressing table.

There, he found a note. It was folded, but it had no writing on the outside. Not even his name.

He opened it.

'_Kurt,_

_The first thing I need to say is that I'm sorry. It was completely unreasonable for me to act that way towards you. You were doing nothing but trying to help, and I shot you down at every attempt. I upset you, and I'm truly sorry. I only acted that way because I was confused. I didn't know what was happening to me, I didn't understand. I was worried about myself. And because of that, I pretended like nothing was wrong. I tried to shake it off, tried to act like a big man. But all I did was hurt you. And hurt a lot of people. People who were offering to help, who were reaching out to me. I can't even put into words how sorry I am._

_I should never act that way towards you, Kurt. You, the smartest, funniest, most talented, amazing, beautiful person I've ever met, and the list could go on. You never deserve to be treated the way I treated you. If I ever do that to you again, which I hopefully won't, I want you to shout me down. I want you to tell me how much of an arrogant, pathetic asshole I'm being. I want you to let me know I'm hurting you. Because it's not okay. It's not okay for you to get hurt and feel like shit and for me to think it's perfectly fine. Because it's really the opposite._

_I also have to tell you that you're right. I bet you have a proud smile on your face now, right? Something is wrong with me. And you helped me realise that. I'm not acting myself, turns out I really do need all the help I rejected. Boy, do I feel like an idiot. I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm depressed or something. And it's hard. But I know if I get the help I need from you, your family, our friends, I'm going to be okay. I'm trying to look on the bright side. It's proving pretty difficult, but whatever._

_The last thing I have to tell you is that I'm in your bed. I don't know if I'll be asleep by the time you read this, or if I'll sleep at all tonight. But just in case you think there's a random creep in your bed, well, there is. But that random creep is just me._

_I love you._

_Blaine xxxooo'_

Kurt swallowed hard. He knew something was wrong with Blaine, he knew it. He was scared.

Blaine said everything would be fine in the end, but he still couldn't help but worry.

He put the letter down and walked slowly to his chest of drawers, quickly changing into pyjamas. He then went to the bathroom and spent a good fifteen minutes doing some sort of skin regime before finally climbing into bed. And, as he said, Blaine was already lying in his bed, seemingly asleep.

He snaked his arm around Blaine's skinny body, settling down to go to sleep. He found one of Blaine's hands and took it, squeezing it and whispering,

"I forgive you. It's okay."

And he closed his eyes, a few moments later hearing a wobbly response of,

"Oh thank god."

He laughed. Blaine wasn't asleep.

Blaine's body wriggled around in his arms, finally still when he had turned around to face Kurt.

They kissed.

Everything was going to be okay.


	5. Therapy

**A/N: Hi everyone! So, I'm sorry the wait was longer than usual, but here's chapter five! :) Enjoy! Also, would you mind answering a question for me? I already have a Tumblr, but should I make another one that's primarily for my stories? Feedback would be much appreciated, as well as feedback on the chapter! Thanks!**

* * *

><p>The next weeks were easier, but not very. They were only easier because Blaine had his friends this time, he didn't reject them. Otherwise, it sucked. He felt so gloomy and unenthusiastic every day, he just lay around most of the day like an inanimate object. Despite what everyone told him, he still attended school at least once a week. School was good for him. He didn't want to spend weeks catching up, even though the teachers said they could send him work, they could help when he returned. School made him feel like he was doing something. That he wasn't just lying around like a hopeless case, that he <em>could <em>push himself.

Everyone in school reacted to him. Some in different ways than others. His friends were constantly supportive, saying all the right things and helping him in the ways he needed to be helped. Then there was the odd bully or two, who would make fun of him. Tell him to "grow an emo fringe and cut yourself", or they would say he's "depressed because you're dating Kurt Hummel". But the bad thing was, it didn't get him down. That sounded silly, didn't it? But it didn't get him down, because he was already the lowest he could be. He was already the worst he could feel, that all the comments didn't even matter. They didn't help, but they didn't make things worse. They did nothing, really. And then there were some of the teachers, who almost talked down to him. Treated him like a puppy or a small child. They talked slowly, were overly rewarding when he got a question right in class. They didn't know what they were doing, but Blaine knew they were just trying to help, so he let it slide.

Another thing was his schoolwork. He wasn't getting the 100% or the 10/10 or the A grades that Dalton had adapted him to. He just felt like doing _nothing_ or very little, so he struggled with schoolwork. Mr. Schuester always scribbled "good effort!" on his Spanish test, which were the best words to describe his work. A good effort, but not a good result. All the teachers understood what effects his depression - what the doctor liked to call it, but it was far too dismal a name for Blaine - were taking on him, so they didn't mind the half-assed tests, with nine out of twenty questions answered, and with wrong answers probably. They didn't even mind the times when it got to Blaine, when he wrote cocky things like "Hell if I know." or "Who cares?".

He had to buy new clothes, too. He ate barely one full meal a day, with small snacks during the day. Most of them were forced to be eaten, by a concerned boyfriend, or a " I'm looking out for you" mohawked friend, or a "Blaine, you really should try this, it's delicious!" Northern Irish brunette friend, or anyone who could convince him enough. He had dropped a size or two, and when Carole saw him with his jumpers sliding down, exposing his shoulders, and his skinny jeans practically falling off his ass, which also meant his brightly coloured briefs were exposed, enough was enough.

"Honey, you look like a sad little rapper," she had told him. He, Kurt and Carole went shopping later that day, and it was actually quite fun, enjoyable. He was allowed to pick any clothes he wanted - and that really meant he chose clothes he liked, sought Kurt's approval, and then made his decision - but he didn't really see the point. He was probably going to get better eventually, so why did they get all these temporary clothes? He assumed Carole's mother alarm was ringing far too laudly for her to carry on with his clothes hanging off him. All the clothes that used to look great on him looked different now. The skinny jeans emphasised his skinny, the tank tops showed how tiny his torso was, the tight-fitting things he nearly always wore were almost too tight-fitting. All the things that Kurt had complimented on, all the things that Kurt said looked "cute" and "perfect" and "sexy" and "stylish" just made him look even more sick. His hips poked out and when he lay down, his ribs were visible and they stuck out. His face was thin, his cheekbones stood out. He had always had good cheekbones, but they really stood out now. He was pointy, basically. Pointy all over.

The next issue was his sleep. He didn't sleep, really. He slept maybe an hour every night, if even that. Sometimes he just sat up awake until Kurt woke up beside him. And he would occasionally wake Kurt up, too. He would be half-awake and mumbling things like, "Baby, try and get some sleep, okay? And don't look at me, I've just woken up." and he would be out like a light again. It was lonely. And he tried to sleep, he really did, but he just couldn't. That was taking effect on his face, too. His injuries from his dad were almost healed now, and he had left a few scars on various parts of his body, including his face. But what annoyed Blaine most were the big dark circles under his eyes. He hated them, they made him look like a zombie. His sleeping problems also contributed to his energy problems, obviously, and a lack of sleep meant he wasn't very attentive, either. He was very half-assed these days and it just wasn't Blaine. It wasn't Blaine who tried his very hardest at everything he did, who didn't give up until it was completely necessary, who would fight to get what he wanted. He just let everything happen. He let life move around without so much as blinking an eye. He slept full nights every once in a while, but that was only because he took sleeping pills. And Blaine couldn't say he didn't consider overdosing on those sleeping pills a few times, but he stopped himself and remembered he was going to get better. That he was in a house of people who loved him and a community of people who cared about him. That he was better than that. He wouldn't let some dumb depression (the doctor's term) stop him in his tracks.

Another new thing for Blaine was a therapist. Burt and Carole had arranged to get him a therapist, despite his constant protesting. And it was only early days, so he didn't understand how this guy was supposed to help him. As far as Blaine was concerned, he was just some "dumb guy who tells me how to run my life, and he thinks he's better than me because he has extra initials at the start of his name."

He knew therapists were supposed to ask you personal questions, make you tell all your horrible stories and things like that.

It didn't mean he had to like it.

* * *

><p>Blaine saw this therapist later that week, on Thursday.<p>

"Hello Blaine, how are you?" his therapist, Dr. Riley, greeted, "have a seat."

"Thanks," Blaine replied, lying back on the long chair to the right of Dr. Riley.

"Now, Blaine. We're gonna tackle something pretty big today, okay? Your early teenage years."

"No," Blaine said almost instantly.

"- I know those years were hard, you've told me, but we need to go over it. Get your feelings out, if might help you."

Blaine had only told the story of his early teenage years to three people - Rachel, Rory and Kurt. He had told Rachel and Rory on the same occasion, and Kurt a week or two previous. And it didn't get any easier to tell.

"...Fourteen," he began, bracing himself for his emotions, "that's when it got the worst. I was bullied from when I was around twelve, but fourteen's when it got really bad."

"And can you tell me why?" Dr. Riley questioned, taking a pen and paper from a nearby table.

Blaine swallowed, "I came out."

He saw his therapist scribble down some notes, and he went on,

"I - I told my dad first. My dad and I had never really gotten on, and of course me being gay didn't help. He..." Blaine paused, he could feel tears coming on already, "he beat the crap out of me. It was the first time my dad beat me. I already had the bullies at school, I mean... wasn't that enough? I - I had to go to hospital. I had to get a cast on my arm and stitches in my kneecap and the back of my head, I had all these gross bruises everywhere on my body. And I mean _everywhere._ I still have scars from that day and I fucking hate looking at them. I hate knowing they're there," there was a catch in Blaine's throat, and he couldn't hold his tears for much longer, but he tried.

"School made it even worse. Word got out. One of the guys in my class found me crying in the bathrooms one day. He told me I could confide in him, that he wouldn't tell anyone. A-And then I told him. W-Why did I tell him? I-I'm so stupid!" Blaine's voice rose. He was angry with himself. Dr. Riley saw this as good news, however. He was letting emotions out. Maybe emotions he'd had trapped for a long time. He went on writing notes and Blaine continued.

"Everyone in school found out. They all expected it anyway, so I basically lived up to their e-expectations, I - I confirmed their ideas," Blaine was crying at this point, his face wet with hot tears. He didn't wipe them away, he didn't try and stop. He just let them stream down.

"I got h-hurt even more. All the idiots in my school shoved me around and punched me and threw things at me. They pushed me up against lockers and basically told me what a piece of shit I was. They locked me in the bathrooms, dunked my head in the toilets, anything really. And the teachers did fuck all about it."

Blaine sniffed. "So basically I wasn't safe anywhere. I would head off in the morning to get beaten and arrive home at evening to get beaten. It sucked. It really fucking sucked.

And then it all got too much, and to stop my," Blaine gave a crude, mocking impersonation of his father, " 'bitching and whining' as my "lovely"," he used air quotes here, "father said, I transferred to Dalton when I was fifteen. The problems stopped in school but not at home. My father would beat me for no fucking reason, he would _look _for things to get angry about and blame _me _for them, like he had a _reason _to beat me."

Blaine stopped for a moment and wiped his cheeks and his eyes, only for more tears to fall nearly instantaneously. He wiped his nose on his arm, it was running. It always did when he cried too much.

"Got really fucking angry when I told him about Kurt," he sounded bitter now. Like all the emotions had been drained and all he had left was bitterness. His voice was low, "Fucker beat the shit out of me again. He threw stuff. He made me bleed, he got my blood all over the carpets and the counters," he laughed sadly, bitterly, "he didn't care. Bastard never does."

"It was hell. Fourteen was complete and u-utter hell," Blaine wrapped it up, "I felt like killing myself."

"And... and did you try?" Dr. Riley finally spoke.

Blaine said nothing. He just looked down at his wrists and gave another bitter laugh.

"I don't even know why I told you," he added after a short silence, "you'll probably tell too, like the guy in my school."

He looked down at his legs glumly, and tears started dripping from his cheeks down onto his jeans. He wiped at his face one last time with the side of his hand.

"I never will. What happens in this office stays in this office. That is something I tell all my patients and I stand by it. You don't have to worry," Dr. Riley assured him, "you can leave now, when you're ready."

Blaine nodded slowly and left the chair, making his way to the door, his eyes never leaving the ground.

"Thank you, Blaine. I'll see you next week," Dr. Riley said as Blaine opened the office door.

"Sure thing," Blaine mumbled, leaving the office and plodding down the hallways.

It wasn't long before he found a bathroom, stopped and broke down in one of the cubicles.

* * *

><p>Saturday night was a sleepover hosted by the Hummel-Hudson brothers. The guests were Brittany, Rory, Santana, Rachel, Mercedes and Puck. "This ought to cheer you up a little," Kurt had told him, "besides, sleepovers with my girls are few and far between these days. That needs to improve."<p>

"Yeah, and I invited Puck and Rory, too, dude," Finn added, "so we don't feel like... attack of the estrogen."

It was okay. Blaine was close enough with all of these people, and they all knew about his depression (as the doctor said). He could talk to them.

"It's gonna get easier, y'know," Rory had mumbled to him as they watched Moulin Rouge, then being interrupted by a sharp "Shhhh!" from Rachel and Brittany putting a finger over his lips, shushing him.

Rory blushed and lowered his voice, "you might not think so, but it will eventually."

"It worries me how much you know about this," Blaine answered, sipping the hot chocolate Kurt had made for him.

"I'm just looking out for you," Rory replied with a shrug, and Blaine nodded, "I know, I know."

"Eyebrows, Irish! Whispering means talking quietly if you didn't know, we're trying to watch a movie!" Santana snapped, "Puckerman and Man Boobs have managed to keep their mouthes shut."

Blaine looked over at Puck and Finn, who were sitting beside each other. Finn looked confused, but Puck looked emotional, touched. He saw Puck like that during some glee club performances. It was sort of cute.

Rory made a sulky face after Santana yelled at him, snuggling into a pillow on his lap, Brittany ruffling his hair as he snuggled down. He smiled.

Blaine took use of Kurt's shoulder at his opposite side, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder.

Kurt smiled and kissed the top of Blaine's head, and Blaine could practically _feel _Mercedes and Rachel smiling sweetly at them from across the room.

Kurt took the blanket he was under and invited Blaine under it, wrapping his arm around Blaine's shoulders.

Blaine snuggled into his chest, making himself comfortable. His eyes were tired.

He was sleepy.

Oh my god.

_He was sleepy._

* * *

><p>"Kurt, look," Rachel smiled and gestured to Blaine an hour or so later, "Blaine's sleeping. <em>Blaine's asleep, <em>Kurt! No medication or anything," her smile broke into a grin and she laughed a little, "Good news!" she added in a sing-song voice.

Kurt looked down at his boyfriend, who was, in fact, sleeping. He was snoring quietly and moving around quite a lot, but he was asleep.

Kurt grinned, "Looks like progress."


End file.
